The Colors You Gave Me
by CVDisley
Summary: Colors. They're everywhere in the world, and the world is designed as if everyone can see these colors, even though that's far from the case. For those who have yet to find their other half, their soulmate, the world is full of black, white, and all the shades of gray in between. That's the world you're doomed to see if you haven't found the one. High school Au, TOMCO
1. Chapter 1

**Luna: Not the best, but** **I'm** **trying. Any pointers or tips are appreciated :)**

 _According to Greek Mythology, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs, and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate beings, condemning them to spend their lives looking for_ _their_ _other half._  
 _-Plato's the Symposium_

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Fantastic. The first day at a new school and Marco was already running late. As soon as he woke up and saw the time, the teenager bolted out of bed and rushed to the shower. When he was done in the shower he wrapped himself in a towel and brushed his teeth, quickly followed by going to pick out his clothes. If anyone else was there they would have thought he was crazy.

The towel-clad teen stood in front of his bed staring at several black hoodies that were exactly the same, white shirts that were the same, and three different color jeans. Black, gray, or white. Of course there was a pair of boxers, the thin teen was just trying to decide his outfit before he put them on.

"MARCO!"

The shout came from down the stairs, and he could already hear the girl stomping of the stairs, and hurried to pull on his boxers. Just in time too, because she flung open the bedroom door and basically tackled him to the floor.

"Star! It's nice to see you, but OW!" Marco cried out while flailing underneath her.

If anyone who had found their soulmate were to look at her they would see blade hair and brilliant blue eyes, and a blue dress. All Marco could see was the shades of black and white like an old movie. Not that Marco could really tell the difference between old and new movies.

"Stop being a baby and get dressed already! We're gonna be late! Dad is driving us."

One very loud, and yet very entertaining car ride later, Star's dad had gotten them to school and Star showed Marco where to pick up his schedule.

"Why is my only class called 'Color Training'?" Marco asked with a raised eyebrow.

He didn't like the way saying those words got multiple strangers at the school to look at him. Not one bit.

"It's for people who haven't found their soul mates. It's a way of forcing us to meet other people looking for their other half, and also when we do find them we will need to be in the class for a few weeks to learn about colors. It's kind of a form of segregation." A voice said from behind as a hand plucked the paper from Marco's hand. "Nice to finally meet you Marco, I'm Janna."

Marco jumped with a slight shout, moving away from the girl and turning around. She wore a simple skirt with a shirt, that was two different shades. She probably wore colors unlike Marco.

"Janna!" Star screeched happily "Let's take him to class to meet everyone! I can't wait!"

Star was jumping up and down in excitement, her dress bouncing with her. She grabbed Marco's arm and easily pulled him along with her. This was going to be a looooong day.

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It had actually been pretty nice to be in a class with other people who hadn't found their other half. No one questioned the simplicity of the clothes he wore, which Marco was so used to. Then when he would answer that he saw no point because he couldn't see the colors, they looked as if they pitied him. It wasn't the same in that class. They all stood on equal ground, only able to see the world in black and white. There Marco met Ponyhead, who was rude and obnoxious, but she was Star's friend so he would put up with it. No one told him why the, ahem, filled out girl was called Ponyhead in the first place though. Janna was in the class, along with a petit girl named baby who never stopped eating. Then there was Ferguson, and Oskar. Star had a huge crush on Oskar from what Marco could tell. Nothing really happened until lunch though. That was when Marco met the only person he's ever truly despised.

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Luna: Hey guys. Just have some people to acknowledge before getting started.**

 **To the guest that so rudely stated their distaste for Tomco. You can take your opinion and shove it. If the comment had been civil I would have taken it into consideration, but while checking my email I had to explain what censorship was to my little sister, so thanks for that.**

 **To Kyle Testaburger (lol. Love your name) and abbydobbie, thank you for favoriting my fic.**

 **To GrimreaperMel, thank you for following my fic.**

 **To Bookish Child, thank you so much for the kind comment. I've been told that my writing style is a little strange before, so I'm glad you like the way I write.**

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 _"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?"_

The icy words cut through the happy air like a knife. Marco flinched when he felt a malicious glare directed at him. He had been on his way to lunch with Star and her friends, who were currently debating whether magic was a real thing or not, but Marco was now frozen in his tracks. Everyone in the area had paused in their tracks.

The male that had shouted had spiked hair and Marco could tell that his skin was exceptionally white, even with his colorblindness. He wore some kind of band shirt from what Marco could tell, with the sleeves cut off. He also wore jeans that were horribly ripped; Marco could not tell if it was intentionally or not.

"Ugh! None of your business Tom!" Star half shouted in irritation.

Marco felt himself gasp in surprise, eyes widening. "Tom? As in ex-boyfriend Tom?"

It was _not_ a very wise idea to voice his thoughts. The statement only seemed to anger the other teen even more, and he was already intimidating enough without the anger. He was a head taller than Marco and covered in lean muscle, which made Marci panic when he realized the rather fit male was coming directly at him. A fist with black nails grabbed a ball of fabric from Marco's sweater, holding him in place.

"Listen here you pathetic cockroach," He spat in hatred, "I honestly don't give a shit about your soulmate bull. Star is mine, no matter what, so stay away!"

Those words made Marco's face turn red, not in fear or anything like that, but complete anger. Star was his best friend and had helped him through the hardest thing in his life. He would not stand for the disrespect of treating her like and object with no free will. No matter how afraid he was, he would not let it happen.

"What right do you have to attack me like this?" Marco muttered, volume slowly raising. "Star is a person, not an object! She can make her own decisions and be with whoever she wants, soulmate or not!"

Marco surprised even himself with his next move. Both because of the bravery it took, and the stupidity. His arms came up to shove Tom's chest, making the taller of the two loose his footing. He had started to let go of Marco's sweater, but not fast enough. The Latino fell on top of Tom, bashing their heads together. It took just a moment for the dizziness of the collision it subside and for Marco to open his eyes. What he saw took his breath away.

He drank in what he saw for several small moments. Tom's eyes were a deep crimson red with flecks of gold making them shimmer. They would have been beautiful if they weren't twisted in pain and disgust. Marco didn't know the names of the colors quite yet, but he couldn't wait to learn them.

"Get off me, you freak!"

Marco was pushed away, collapsing on the cold ground. Tom stood and stomped away, probably lost for words. Not everyone was excited when they met their soulmate after all.

Marco actually let out a small whimper. As soon as the contact broke, the world faded back to the many shades of gray. Marco blinked a few times with a pout. How had he ended up with such a jerk of a soulmate?

"Why doesn't Tom care about soulmates?" He asked as he finally stood.

Star was the one to sigh slightly. "He was born different. Tom has been able to see color his entire life."

It hit him right there, and _it hurt._ Of course it would. Even those who didn't believe in only falling in love with your soulmate spent their lives wanted to fall in love with their destined one. To marry someone who wasn't, was just settling for second best. Everyone knew that.

 _Tom_ _doesn't_ _know what we are._


	3. Chapter 3

**This is a short little filler to transition to my next chapter because of how long I've left this inactive. There will be a real chapter in the next few days.**

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Star knew Marco. She knew that he was nervous when it came to most things, and that he was very specific in the few things he was confident in. She knew people made him nervous, specifically people larger and stronger than him, so she knew that Tom's outburst would have some kind of affect on him.

"This was more than she expected though. Marco had always cared about how he looked, to an extent. He liked his hoodie, t-shirt, and jeans, but it went past that. His hair was always cut and brushed to look the exact same way, his clothes were always properly ironed, and his nails were cut and filed to the perfect shape.

Wrinkles. She noticed those first when Marco came down from his room, because his parents had of course invited Star in for breakfast. His jeans and gray sweater had enough wrinkles to be noticeable to someone who knew the way Marco was. He had combed his hair, but it was still a bit of a mess. Marco had sat down for breakfast, staring listlessly at the wall. He didn't even look in her direction. He looked exhausted.

"Marco?"

Star didn't get a response. The Latino just shoveled overly sugared cereal into his mouth. Had one run in with her jerk of an ex really caused this?

Soon it was time for them to leave, and Star had to drag Marco out of the house. That was a first. Every time they had agreed to meet with someone the summer before, Marco had been the one dragging her around. River was driving again, so they would thankfully be on time. If Star had tried to walk to school with Marco they would be late and the Latino would end up complaining about his perfect attendance. When he finally started acting like himself anyway.

At school Marco was cautious and paranoid, jumpy at best. She knew that he was trying to avoid Tom, and for good reason.

Tom was angry. Absolutely livid really. How dare some random new kid act like Star didn't belong to him. That's why Tom was working on his anger, and he had been so close to graduating his anger management. Until yesterday. Somehow it had gotten back to Brian that he had an outburst, and now Tom was back to square one.

Just the thought of the Latino had Tom's blood boiling, and his anger building. He had been pacing down the hallway during a break to let off some steam when Tom saw the very cause of his anger. The other boy seemed smaller than he did the day before. Tom almost felt bad, but then he saw the other male talking to Star, and any pity he had went away.

So he spent the week terrorizing the teen. Who obviously didn't tell Star because she didn't run to his defense, no matter how many times Tom screamed, shoved, or punched the kid. The only thing that really made Tom question what he was doing was when the kid would look at him with big sad eyes, the deep brown making his breath catch in his throat. It was like Tom was abusing a small animal. The Marco kid reminded him of a rabbit the way he cowered.

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 **Thank you for pointing out something was wrong with the text, I've fixed it ^-^**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Sorry it's been so long. I've had health problems and was focusing on a huuuuge original story project. my outline is insanely big.**_

Weeks passed. Marco could never bring himself to tell Star, or even his parents, about Tom. It wasn't because he scared, he definitely was, but his reasoning was different.

How could he tell them that he was addicted to the bully's touches? How could he possibly explain that every moment he was away from Tom he became anxious, but also paranoid? He understood now, why all the others wanted to find their other halves so desperately. The world, in color, was beautiful.

He still tried to avoid Tom. He didn't look forward to the pain that came from Tom's anger. The teen was quick to use violence, and had been covering Marco in a multitude of bruises. It ached to move sometimes, but even those were worth it. If Tom so much as brushed against his skin Marco became captivated by Tom's eyes. Over and over again he got caught up in the deep red.

Over the weeks the Latino had also had time to notice other things about Tom. His hair was a strange shade of salmon and wore a hefty amount of eyeliner for a man, but it looked good on him. His shirt matched his eyes, and the red star at the center had almost made Marco snort the first time he saw it.

Now he was cornered at the back of the school where no one would bother going. He stood against the wall, with Tom looming over him.

"How many times do I have to tell you to stay away from Star?"

Marco rolled his eyes. Something about Tom's repetitive orders brought out the small sliver of courage Marco had. The larger teen always seemed to make Marco throw caution to the wind, and he hated it. The only other person who had ever done that before was Star. When it was her taking risks was pleasant.

Why don't you just tell her how you feel?

Marco's face fell for a moment. The memory of Star's voice reminded him that taking risks didn't go well. It didn't matter whether Star was there are not.

"Freak?"

Could it really be that bad? To just tell the truth?

It was getting hard to breathe. He didn't want to remember much of last summer. All he wanted were the happy memories with Star, so why? Why did he have to remember that now? Marco had tried to forget. He had tried so hard. Why? Why couldn't he forget? Why did he have to remember? Forget it. Forget. Forgetforgetforget-

"Breathe in."

Color filled his vision, pink, red, and the pale shade of skin dominated him. He could feel the hot hands on his face, commanding his attention. He couldn't help but listen to what he was told.

"Good. Now out. Again."

Had anyone ever actually helped him during a panic attack before? Marco couldn't remember. Right now all he could think about was the voice commanding him and the red eyes looking at him in concern. It was a nice thought. The thought of being taken care of. He only hoped that this person would catch him as his vision faded to black.


End file.
